Stars and Boulevards
by MeinBritishBroski
Summary: The dreaded month of July rolls around and Arthur finds himself drunk and alone on a bench with no one to take him home.  USUK/UKUS angst/fluff. Suggested listening; Stars and Boulevards - Augustana


Cigarette smoke danced in the cold night air, completely unsure what to do with itself as it let the rain poke holes in it. A large black umbrella was crammed into a crack in the bench so it would not have to be held; it amplified the rhythm of the thunderstorm currently ripping through London.

A few people walked by holding their arms close to their bodies, shuffling along in tightly-knit groups. They paid no mind to the stranger in the odd clothes, nor did they seem to notice the sickening stench of liquor lacing the smell of damp dirt on cement. They were simply intent on reaching their warm homes, maybe snuggling on the couch, heating up some dinner and watching late-night - or was it early-morning? - television.

The man sat there on the bench under the umbrella, a cancer-stick dangled limply out of his mouth, his right hand clutched loosely to a mostly empty bottle of rum covered in a brown paper bag. His green eyes were darkened, they stared blankly at a small expanse of sidewalk. His mind was going a million miles an hour; remembering.

Arthur vaguely remembered that he hated the taste of nicotine; he also remembered he only smoked when he'd had too much to drink.

He remembered that he'd had too much to drink.

Nostalgia caused his body to shudder involuntarily. Tonight was just another one of his regrettable memories resurfacing. The rain, the wind, the thunder. The distinct feeling of loneliness that formed a thick lump in his throat. The potent realization that tonight there was no one who was going to talk him out of his depression - no disappointed, sorry face, no chiding, or tired laughing.

No knight in shining armor to drag his sorry arse home.

He could almost hear fireworks and obnoxious babbling - though not on this island. Not anywhere in Europe. In fact, the imagined noises seemed a million miles away. Arthur supposed that they really were.

He took a long drag from the cigarette, flicked it to the ground and watched as the rain ruined it; made it damp and useless. Arthur took a swig from the bottle and choked slightly as the warm liquid burned his throat and pooled in his stomach. The alcohol sloshed in his stomach, causing a small wave of nausea to wash over him.

After he had been allowed to stay at the bar for about two hours after it closed, the young bartender had finally gotten fed up with his drunken, depressed rambling and kicked him out - Arthur didn't blame him. Alfred had always said he was a terrible, confusing, fucked-up drunk.

_Alfred..._

Alfred who was probably - no, definitely - celebrating their separation. He had always been an ambitious child, Arthur mused. Alfred had never been able to sit still. Arthur remembered when Francis had urged him to be more firm with Alfred, but Arthur didn't have it in his heart to deny the child anything. He lamented on the fact that if he had just _listened to that disgusting Frog for a measly moment_ he might not have lost Alfred. He might not be sitting on this bench in the pouring rain with his head swimming in a haze and his stomach churning violently. He might actually be happy.

He took another swig from the bottle, frowned and squinted into its empty depths. A fire burned in his eyes momentarily before he flung the empty bottle onto the sidewalk, he flinched at the sound of the glass on the pavement. All the rage gone, he buried his face in his hands, trying to contain the tears that sprung into his eyes.

"You used to be so great."

He looked up to what he thought was a hallucination of Alfred, who stood there with his hands stuffed in his jean pockets, blond hair disheveled, and a lopsided smile on his face. His bright blue eyes twinkled in a way that made Arthur's breath hitch.

"Nhn, now I'm just a crazy old man, right? You've come here to gloat..." Arthur slurred, once again concentrating on the shattered bottle of rum on the sidewalk. He ran his fingers roughly through his own shaggy hair, exhaling loudly.

"You weren't at the meeting today..." Alfred whispered softly, moving hesitantly to sit next to the drunk man. He scooted up close to him on the bench, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees, "I wanted to make sure you were alright, y'know? You used to be so great..." Alfred whispered the last part in an admirable tone. Arthur's selective hearing didn't pick up the words.

"Just go catch your plane back home. It's your birthday and you should be celebrating with your family." Arthur swayed dangerously forward, Alfred stopped him from falling by placing his open palm on the other's chest and pushing him back. Arthur blinked, shocked at the contact.

"They don't want to celebrate with me. My brother already had our party without me. You're the only other family I have." Alfred whispered unsteadily.

Arthur supposed Alfred had still not come to terms with that - that he had blatantly fought against and ran away from the only person who had given a damn about him. Arthur felt the faint sense of victory twinge in his heart.

Alfred had _missed _him.

"So you caught a plane..." Arthur stumbled with the words. Alfred nodded in agreement, giving him a look that urged 'go on!'.

"Flew oversea..." Alfred nodded once more, pursing his lips.

"... To waste your time with an old drunk on a rain-soaked island everybody seems to trash-talk?" Arthur finished bitterly, slumping back onto the bench, not noticing the other's arm draped around his shoulders.

"You make it sound so unjustified, Ar-"

"Because it is. Just leave. You're making my head hurt, wanker..."

It only helped that Alfred's arm was encircling Arthur's shoulder, it just made it all that easier for the American man to pull the other closer and cover his mouth with his lips. Alfred scrunched his face up at the taste of smoke and alcohol, his grip on the other's hair wouldn't allow Arthur to pull away.

Arthur hadn't been expecting that at all; his green eyes brightened up and grew wide in surprise. He found that as his heart sped up, so did the painful pounding on the inside of his skull. At first he tried to push away, only finding that the other would dig his sharp fingernails into his neck if he did. An embarrassing noise escaped him when Alfred's tongue ran over his bottom lip.

Alfred moved his hand up to cup the other's cheek before pulling away slowly. Their eyes were glossy, and Arthur found himself trying to find his breath - they hadn't kissed long enough for him to be breathless - he just hadn't been ready for that. Whatever _that_ had been.

"I'm gonna walk you home." Alfred stated out of the blue, getting up and wrenching the umbrella out of its hold in the bench, raising it above Arthur's head. He extended his hand, it felt like centuries before Arthur reached out and grabbed on, hauling himself up woozily.

Arthur laced his fingers with Alfred's and leaned heavily on his shoulder, sighing as they walked together on the slick pavement. Alfred was so strong and sturdy that the Briton didn't have to put much effort into walking.

He made it all the way to his front porch before he lapsed into unconsciousness, falling to his knees. Arthur felt like a rag doll to Alfred as he stooped to pick him up and carry him bridal style into the house; using his shoulder to open the unlocked door. He flicked on the light switch with his elbow.

Just looking around at the house made Alfred feel sorry for Arthur. All the pictures had been torn away from the walls and thrown on the floor, a door in one of the hallways had been boarded up, and so had the stairway to the attic. Still looking around, he carefully lowered the other's body down onto the couch in the living room.

He sat on the floor next to the couch, facing Arthur. He brushed the other's hair off of his face and kissed his forehead lightly. Arthur shifted slightly, closed eyes scrunching up in confusion.

_"You used to be so great..."_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Notes-<strong>

Instead of uploading this on the fourth (since I'll be in North Dakota with no wi-fi) I decided to upload this now~  
>Who doesn't just love a little USUK fluffangst/romance shit?

I do~

Anyway, please review and tell me what can be improved/what I royally screwed up on etc. c:


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